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Just Ridley
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Copyright © 2018 J.D. Light
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CHAPTER ONE
"Motherfu…grr!" I reached up to rub the growing knot on my head, momentarily forgetting the reason I’d cracked my brain on the cabinet in the first place was because I was in the process of hiding from the fantasy on legs I mentally referred to as the love of my life. He'd yet again caught me watching him through the order window like some creep and I'd tried to duck behind the wall, but forgot the part where you pull your damn head in.
The love of my life was a gorgeous Adonis of a man who came into the diner where I've worked as a cook for the last three months, on a daily, sometimes twice daily basis. Always in a dark colored, tight t-shirt, worn, well fitting jeans and steal-toed boots. His short on the sides and long on top, black hair was constantly finger raked and his equally black beard well groomed.
Today, since it was now the middle of May, he’d ditched his long sleeves for short, showing off muscular, heavily inked arms where they crossed over his massive chest, while he sat at the booth in the corner closest to the swinging door that lead to the back with a pretty blonde who looked like she'd never laughed a day in her life.
In all, he made a very intimidating, very sexy, very straight looking specimen. And something told me, even if he was gay––which let’s face it, that just wasn’t how my luck ran, ever––he wouldn’t be interested in some skinny, computer nerd who’s fear of needles made it to where he would probably never be able to stay conscious long enough to get a tattoo.
I rubbed my head vigorously, trying not to cuss and glanced through the window to make sure nobody noticed the one or two words I let slip under my breath. I started and nearly brained myself again when my eyes locked with eyes so light a green they were verging on yellow.
And of course I did the most mature, least humiliating thing possible. Squeaked like a toy mouse and dived below the window.
Well, that wasn’t super obvious.
Already, the guy caught me staring or stealing glances at him all the time. To the point the man just constantly watched the order window, like he was just waiting to see how many times I would check him out. I had to wonder if he and his equally enormous, but not near as beautiful, at least to me, friends that were sometimes with him, had bets on just how many times I watched him in a single meal.
He thankfully never full on glared. I might actually shit my pants if he did. And I was pretty sure there were code violations for that type of thing in a kitchen. But all the gorgeous man ever did was watch me with a bit of a smile on his face. Probably holding back laughter at the goofy red head who had a gravity problem and more freckles than face.
After about a minute and a half bent oddly over the prep station while I worked, trying not to show my face through the order window, I figured the man had to have found something a little more entertaining than the geeky man-child playing peek-a-boo in the back. I mean come on. He was sitting with that beautiful blond woman he spent at least three meals a week with. So, I felt pretty confident when I placed the next order in the window and reached up to take the next ticket.
Bunny had, under my direction, ordered an all-digital system that I was supposed to install, but it hadn't arrived yet. So, until then, we were still all "old school."
Because I seriously have no self-preservation skills, I quickly glanced in the love of my life’s direction. And he was watching me, the corner of his mouth ticked up, like he found something amusing about a scrawny human drooling over him. When all I could do was stand there, eyes locked with his and my mouth flopped open like an idiot, he smiled wider and even brought a hand in the air in some kind of manly version of a wave.
Thinking fast, because I’m a freaking genius, I picked up the plate to the order I had just sat down and brought it up to hide my face. Like literally, I tried to hide behind a plate. And not in the, hold it up level and hide behind the piled food way. I picked that sucker up and flipped it so that the bottom of the plate was facing the love of my life.
It’s strange, I know, but fried chicken, mashed potatoes and white gravy burns a little when you dump it down the front of your shirt.
Screaming like a preteen princess, I dropped the plate, letting it clatter but not break, because it was that heavy plastic, not porcelain, against the giant wooden table that served as the prep station and peeled my shirt away from my scorched chest. And this time, I cussed. I cussed loud and long and used words such as shitfuckdamnmotherbitch. Thankfully, I was also jumping all over the kitchen, so pots and pans and a stack of plastic cups hit the floor, drowning out my blue-streak.
When the commotion finally stopped and I had managed to flail around enough to cool things down, absolute silence had come over the diner. I looked up to find my boss Bunny standing just inside the swinging door from the front with her hand clamped over her mouth, eyes dancing and body shaking with pent up laughter.
Sighing, I waved a hand out in front of me. "Go ahead. Don’t know why you’re even bothering to pretend." And then the dam holding back her snorts broke while I shook my head and started putting the kitchen back to rights.
Bending over, my back to Bunny and the diner, I started stacking cups together to put back through the washer.
I just didn’t understand it. I was a decently coordinated guy. It wasn’t like I was just some super lanky, awkward human. I mean sure I was skinny, but I definitely had enough muscle on me to at least make my body work in a reasonable way.
Except when it came to a certain green eyed gaze. I could only assume it was the sudden rush of blood to another part of my body. The extremities were always the first to go. I guess I just never really thought of the head as an extremity before.
"Are you alright?" I didn’t even need to turn around and look to know it was the love of my life. There could really be only one owner to that deep, rich, curl your toes voice.
I froze, knowing I should answer, but completely unable to form words. My hands shook where I gripped a cup a bit too tight. And I think I might have quit breathing. Lungs too, huh? I was learning a little bit about the human body today.
Bunny was still laughing at me. I guess being someone’s godparent gave you the right to laugh at that person when they gave themselves fourteen degree burns with the food they just cooked.
Still choking on her giggles, Bunny got moving. "Flynn Becker, get your butt out of my kitchen. He's fine," she said, probably using her god parenting abilities to see how incredibly uncomfortable I was and ushering the gorgeous man out through the swinging doors. "Now go sit down. You know you can’t be behind the counter."
Flynn Becker. So that was going to be the name of the human that would one day somehow cause me to flush my own head down the toilet. Or bleed out because I accidentally stabbed myself in the femoral artery with a butter knife.
On a side note, at least now I had a name to gasp later when I was imagining a completely different scenario than how this shit had all gone down. One where I was less clumsy and a little more suave and Flynn was a little less dressed and a little more driving into me.
***
It’s not like I just always have shitastic days. In fact, I'm a pretty happy person in general, who feels like, all things considered, I have a pretty great life. And aside from the clear and present danger I tend to be to myself around Flynn, I'm usually actually able to walk a somewhat straight line and not end up maimed or beheaded. But just like every human everywhere. I sometimes have a day that just can’t go right, no matter how hard I try to be positive.
I thought it was shaping up to be just such a day. Especially while I was bent over the front of my car with the hood up, looking down into what basically looked like a mess of lines and parts running around each other in no appa
rent pattern, trying to decide which of these nonsensical mechanisms was the reason my car died and now refused to start. Not that if I did somehow manage to figure out the unsolvable and find the culprit, I’d have the money to fix whatever it was.
And wouldn’t you know it, it was dusk, it was only getting darker, I was still a good eight miles from home and for some reason, my super dead cell phone hadn’t charged even the tiniest little bit on the car charger. It looked like I might be doing a little walking tonight.
Sighing, I hung my head and tried to talk my exhausted body into the next couple hours. For the first time in my life, I was considering taking a chance on hitchhiking and just crossing my fingers I didn’t get a serial killer.
"Ridley? Is everything alright?"
Squeaking, I jumped, jostling the prop and nearly dropping the hood down on my face. Thankfully, a gorgeous arm shot out and caught the metal before it slammed against my cranium in a humiliating fashion.
I turned to find Flynn, eyes wide but dancing with humor, holding the hood and smiling at me. The material of his shirt rode up on his arm, showing off the definition of his bicep and shoulder. I let my eyes wander lower, taking in the width of his chest, the hint of tight abs peeking out between the bottom of his shirt and the low ride of his jeans. I stopped at the crotch of his jeans, unable to move any further as I noticed the more than healthy bulge there.
Was it growing? I think it was growing.
"Okay. You’re going to have to stop that or I’m not going to be able to be a gentleman for much longer."
Surprised, because I kinda forgot I was looking at the actual human and not just enjoying the fantasies in my head, I snapped my head up to find him still smiling. But now, there was definitely something more in his eyes. Maybe not dangerous, but definitely predatory. Like the look Benny, my best friend since forth grade, got when he shifted and chased bunnies in the woods behind my old house.
Could Flynn be a shifter?
Shit! I hoped not. He’d totally be able to scent the fact that I was half hard from the perusal I’d just done of his amazing body.
Licking my lips, I tried to say something that would even make sense, but Flynn just groaned and moved forward, using his hip to move me out of the way before he laid the prop back in it’s rightful place and shut the hood.
Unfortunately, he brushed against my dick, causing it to jerk and forcing me to bite the shit out of my lip, so I wouldn’t moan. Had he felt it? If he was a shifter, was my arousal scenting the air around me so strongly he was about to choke on it?
I could only hope the dude wasn’t a homophobe.
When Benny talked me into moving to Purdy, a micro town in Nebraska, he’d told me over and over how accepting the town was of gay people. Unlike the town we had both been raised in.
Bunny, who happened to be Benny’s mom, offered me a job in the diner, and I’d happily accepted. Since my dad had died when I was ten of a heart attack and my mom later when I was in my third semester of college in a fire at her bakery, I literally had nothing holding me to that place. I’d dropped out of college to handle the funeral and deal with all the stuff left behind in the house, and then promptly moved here.
Trying not to let the sadness of those memories pull me under, I shook my head and looked back into beautiful green eyes.
Flynn was standing close. Really close. His callused hand came up to cup the side of my head and his thumb caressed along my cheekbone, making me gasp as a heated tingle danced along the skin where he was touching me. "Why did you suddenly get so sad, gingerbread boy?"
I blinked, realizing I still hadn’t said a word to the man. I tried to form words again, but my mouth just literally moved around without purchase and my breath bounced against my vocal cords without actually making noise.
I licked my lips again, and his bright eyes followed the movement, narrowing as a rumble left his mouth, moving hot breath against my face.
Was he getting mad at me because I wasn’t talking? Was the awkward boy who stared at him constantly finally not amusing anymore and now just annoying?
He growled again and I suddenly knew without a doubt that the man standing in front of me was a shifter. "Now you’re getting scared. What’s wrong?"
The genuine concern in his eyes was a bit calming, even as the tightening of his hand on my face was less so. "N-nothing. I uh…you growled. I thought I made you mad."
A small huff escaped Flynn’s mouth, again bathing my face in his warm, sweet breath. "Sorry my little gingerbread boy. But I’m having a really hard time keeping myself under control at the moment."
My eyes widened as I realized what he meant. "Is your animal trying to get out? I thought you guys had control when in animal form! Does he want to hurt me?"
It was Flynn’s turn to flounder for a minute. Finally, he shook his head and smiled. "You know about shifters? That will make things a bit easier. And no, my animal doesn’t want to hurt you at all. He’s just a little impatient with me at the moment."
"Oh." Smiling slightly while looking at Flynn under my lashes, I wondered in the back of my mind why this man turned me into this shy little mouse. "My godmother and best friend are both shifters. I figured it out when you were looking at me like my friend looks at his prey. Uh…are you sure you don’t want to attack me?"
"Oh, sweet boy." Rubbing his thumb along my cheek one more time, he dropped his hand and stepped back. "If you only knew. Come on. I saw you pull in here. With your lights dimming like that, I almost guarantee it’s an alternator. You can come stay at my house and we’ll come back for it tomorrow with the tow truck and take it to my shop in the morning."
He started walking in the direction of the dark woods and even though I wasn’t afraid of the dark, I couldn’t help but feel uneasy about following a shifter into the woods. "You really don’t have to do that. I can’t afford to get it fixed right now anyway."
Flynn turned, holding out his hand to me. Probably because I hadn’t moved from my spot yet by the car. "Alternators aren’t that expensive and don’t worry about it right now. We’ll figure something out. Now, come on."
Moving forward, I reached out and took his hand, trying not to gasp again when our skin touched. I wanted to blame all this energy I was getting from him on the mystical whatever that made a shifter a shifter, but I never felt like this when I touched Benny.
Looking around, I suddenly realized I didn’t see a vehicle besides mine anywhere. "Uh. Where is your truck?"
Flynn chuckled. "How did you know I drove a truck?"
Oh shit! Now he was going to know what a creepy stalker I was. "Uh." I was also starting to sound like an empty headed moron with all the "uhs." "I saw you in it once at the grocery store."
"Really? I didn’t smell you there."
That surprised a laugh out of me as I continued to be led further into the woods. "That’s a weird thing to say, even for a shifter. I was in the library across the street."
"Aw. To answer your question, it’s at the house. I live about another two hundred yards back in here. I was about to shift and go for a run when I saw your car stutter in."
Sure enough, when we broke through the brush of the woods, I could see the lights from the house. I was surprised when Flynn didn’t drop my hand, even when we walked up the porch and through the front door.
In fact, he was still holding onto my hand when Benny launched himself off the chair in the corner, snagging me around the waist and bouncing me up and down in his arms like a toddler.
I hated when he did that. It was super awkward. Especially now that I was a good four inches taller than him.
"Stop, you dumb ass! I thought you were out of town for a week."
Benny continued to hold me off the ground, smiling up at me. "I came back early and had to stop by the alpha’s to talk to him."
"Bennet," the deep, sexy voice of the man still holding my hand sounded almost dangerous. "You want to tell me why you are manhandling my mate?"
CHAPTER TWO
The entire room froze into silence. Every pair of eyes, including my mate’s settled on me. Most in shocked surprise except Abigail’s and Ridley’s. The latter looked adorably confused, which made me want to reach out and smooth the barely there wrinkles on his forehead. Abby just looked pissed.
I was worried I knew what was behind that, but didn’t have time to deal with my second right now.
It might have been quite amusing, watching Bennet’s eyes widen before moving back and forth between Ridley and me. But because the man was currently crushing his entire front against my mate’s and I could smell the happiness coming off of them both, I wasn’t feeling all that amused.
Slowly, Bennet lowered my mate to the floor, stepping back. "I’m sorry, Alpha. Ridley and I have been best friends for over ten years. There is absolutely zero romantic interest on either of our parts."
Ridley’s eyes widened as he looked at me. "You’re Benny’s alpha? And thanks, Benny. Maybe try not to make it sound like I’m the most disgusting choice available. I mean, jeez. Not like I didn’t already know I’m not all that…Wait!" He spun to face me again. "You’re not homophobic, are you?"
My little gingerbread mouse looked angry at the end of that train of thought derailment, showing a bit of the snark I had heard him use with Bunny and some of the other’s at the diner.
I smiled, tugging him closer and under my arm, liking how his longish on top, bright red hair, brushed against my ear, and sent his delicious scent floating around us. Running through all the words that had just got thrown at me, I finally answered. "No, Ridley. I’m not homophobic. I would just rather not have someone trying to claim what is mine."
"What is…What?! What’s yours?" I smelled the hurt and embarrassment coming off my sweet mate, but he never let either show on his face. "Is Benny your boyfriend?"
Bennet barked out a laugh, but quickly covered his mouth when I shot him a glare.
"No, Bennet is definitely not my boyfriend. " I smiled down into the most beautiful whiskey colored eyes waiting for him to understand the implication, but I was still waiting after like thirty seconds.